In Search of Her Origin

Darkmount - Arena

You believed the barracks to be the largest cavern until you pass into the Decepticon Empire's training arena. The platform stretches before you for only a few more meters before dropping off into the seemingly bottomless cavern. Intensely lighted, the cavern stretches for miles and has been unaltered in appearance. There are numerous natural formations of rock and outcroppings, ideal for practicing both ground and aerial combat maneuvers.

The bare earth and rock of the native planetscape is interspaced with recognizable Cybertronian cityscapes and even an incomplete mockup of the Autobot fortress of Iacon. The city streets show brief, furtive movements as combat drones marked as Autobots shift their locations to more tactically sound positions or lurk in wait to ambush unwary Decepticons. Other types of terrain provide other types of experience.

Aerial training is provided as well. An entire section of the grounds is devoted to a high-altitude combination of disposable towers, holographic projection, and real weaponry to produce an aerial obstacle course that tests the skill and resolve of the Decepticons to the utmost. Air-to-air combat training takes place in the sky above, Decepticons engaging in dogfights with each other and their instructors until they know these maneuvers intimately, maneuvers that may one day save their lives.
Contains:
Health Restorer
Obvious exits:
-W- West leads to Darkmount - Tunnel.

Onslaught arrives from the Darkmount - Tunnel.

You step into what must surely be the weirdest landscape you've ever seen -- the holograhic simulators have the arena bathed in blue light, with weird stone formations hanging from the ceiling and rising from the floor. Somewhere within that projection, someone must be controling the simulator...

The projection shifts again, the stone formations shimmering out and being replaced by a vast desertscape of drifting blood-red sand....

Onslaught pauses as he watches the scenery shift before him, and hmms.

Whiplash's glossy-black form is now easy to pick out in the center of the open landscape, as she stands in the middle of the arena and simply looks around intently, her tentacles curling softly about her as though in a slight breeze.

Whiplash moves in a small circle, and then shakes her head, going back to the projection controls for another try.

Onslaught glances over at Whiplash, before making his presence known. "Problem, Whiplash?"

The desert fades out, replaced by a steaming tangle of gray cables that drape the entire height of the cavern, obscurring the view. Foaming liquid bubbles along the ground of this monochrome swamp setting. Someone's looking through all the alien-planet landscapes, it seems.

Onslaught says, "Not as bad as Neddron, I would assume..."

Whiplash calls from her now-hidden location somewhere in the tangle of cable-vines, "What? Oh ... er, no problem. Just playing around with the simulator a little." The explanation perhaps a bit too hastily spoken.

Onslaught moves some of the cables out of the way with the brushing motion of his hand. "Indeed. Looking for new training grounds, or perhaps something else?"

Whiplash's hand hovers over the controls as though considering merely turning them off, but she turns away from it as Onslaught makes his way through the tangle. "Oh, just wondering what all was stored," she says a bit evasively.

Onslaught chuckles, "Well, avoid the Monacus strip program. Swindle took the liberty of programming in killer prostibots with deadly stilletos, just for Brawl."

Whiplash says, "Not really looking at Monacus. It's too civilized. What's that Neddron place you were talking about?"

Onslaught gives pause, "Too civilized?" He regards Whiplash for a moment, "Then you are searching for something. Program 5A-0876."

Whiplash makes a shrugging motion with her tentacles. "Maybe one day after we finish off the 'Bots, I'll be part of an exploration team. We'll have to expand the empire someday, right? Always wanted to see what was out there." Is that the whole story? Hard to tell... She keys in the program that was named.

The landscape becomes semi-solid, with lush green vegitation, and untamed thickets of large trees, easily able to hold Cybertronians within it's limby weave. Massive insects, the size of mini-bots move about slightly, searching for energy signatures.

Onslaught says, "True, but why something uncivilized to look for, then?"

Onslaught says, "There is the very civilized Chavva 14, or Tendrus, which surface is covered by ninety percent water."

Whiplash looks about intently, taking in every aspect of the landscape. The motion of a nearby giant insect catches her attention and her tentacles snap forward, her optics flickering bright for a moment -- but then they shift back to their normal color as she sighs and shakes her head. "No, that's not it either." She scowls. "I'm ... trying to see if I recognize anything."

Onslaught says, "Yourself, perhaps?"

Whiplash looks away, her tentacles drawing in around her. "Something like me, maybe," she says quietly.

Onslaught takes a seat in one of the large limbs, "I am afraid I cannot be of much assistance. I have not seen much of the universe, I fear, and I would have been sure to have registered something as alluring as your altmode has made you."

Whiplash makes a dismissive sound at the mention of her alt mode. "You know, I thought I put that whole question behind me years ago. Where I came from, who built me -- what does it matter? First thing I remember was the battle rings, maybe there was nothing before that." She turns back toward Onslaught as her optics flicker a little brighter in anger. "And then Slipstream goes and says something about catching a glimpse -- some other world, something like me, disappearing into the wilderness."

Whiplash unwraps her tentacles and shakes them out as though ridding herself of something unpleasant. "And she even said herself that she might have imagined it. So what does it matter, right? I'll never know."

Onslaught says, "Or perhaps Slipstream was simply playing with your mind in an attempt to see how you would respond. She is in intellegence, after all."

Whiplash growls, her hands curling themselves unconsciously into fists. "Why would she do that? What could she get out of that?"

Onslaught says, "What are you doing right now, Whiplash? Growing angry at the thought -- she's trying to gauge how you will respond."

Whiplash shakes her head, not comprehending at all. "Why? I'm not her enemy!"

Onslaught says, "No, but you are an officer of the Empire, Whiplash. She needs to know, for the record, how you handle any and all implications of your past, I figure. You should see it when mine is dragged out."

Whiplash's optics widen a little and she uncurls her fists, though her tentacles take up an aggitated motion around her. Her gaze flickers away. "Guess I shouldn't have told those stories yesterday. Sorry 'bout that."

Onslaught shrugs. "It is common knowledge, Whiplash. No real problem."

Whiplash says, "Yeah, but -- no need to dredge it up. I figured it was okay, 'cause it was your mate we were talking to, but you got your respect to maintain in the ranks too. Anyway, won't happen again. As for me - - whatever it was she was doing, it got me thinking about the question again. And it doesn't matter. I'll just have to convince myself of that again. I'm here now, I do my job. Who cares how I got here?"

= Cybertronian Rumors =

Rank Changes? (anonymously posted)

Hey, I heard it myself. That Onslaught fella, he's gonna challenge Shockwave for leadership of the cons! Seriously! I mean, the guy ran the Empire for a while after Ghost left, and Shockwave was out chasing comets or what have you, and now everyone seems to have shuffled off the O to some back room to live out his existance, and that has him teed off.

Triage arrives from the Darkmount - Tunnel.

Whiplash is somewhere in the middle of an alien jungle-like setting talking to Onslaught, but neither can probably be seen easily from the entrance.

Onslaught says dryly, "Whatever she said that made you think was probably meant to have just that affect, Whiplash."

Triage comes storming into the arena like a tan and blue transorg with a bad toothache. Due to the jungle cover, she can't see Onslaught but she can almost hear him. She moves toward the sound of his voice, tracking him with those deadly angry wife skills famed in song and story.

Whiplash shakes her head again. "Well, sorry, but I still don't get it. Why would anyone--" she stops and tilts her head as she hears something come crashing through the holographic underbrush.

Triage mutters to Triage: "Crazy ... mechs gotta ... ... of his ... for ... up something like this ... what's ... ... ... ... ... ..."

Onslaught pauses as he hears the rustling, and the mutterings of a very familiar voice. "Over here, Triage!"

Whiplash peers toward the source of the sound, more curious than concerned, because what enemy could really seek them out here in Darkmount?

Triage stomps over to Onslaught and Whiplash, even though she doesn't really notice the other femme at first. Instead, she stomps up to Onslaught. 'Have you lost y'damn MIND?"

Whiplash decides, "Maybe I oughtta turn off the obstacles." She steps toward the simulation projector and touches a control, whereupon the arena returns to its barren basic form, clearly revealing Onslaught and Whiplash in the center.

Onslaught loses his seat, and lands firmly on his aft as Triage suddenly looms large over him. "... I am not sure what you mean, Triage. My net is still firmly in place..."

Whiplash turns toward Triage, surprised at her angry tone.

Triage says, "You coulda fooled me! What's this slag I hear about you makin' challenges?!"

Onslaught blinks, and pauses for a moment, hearing that tone.. not a rather pleasent one, "I suppose, Triage.. that I should explain?"

Whiplash mouths "Oh," to herself, having just put the equation together. Triage must have heard about Onslaught's plan somehow, and is obviously not pleased.

Triage's optics redshift. "You ain't gonna weasle outta this one Onslaught, I know what you're up to. My cousin heard all of it."

Onslaught says, "...that being?"

Whiplash just stands back and watches, considering that the wisest choice just now.

Triage says, "That you're plannin' on takin' part in these challenges that Shockwave is organizin' for one thing!""

Onslaught looks up at Triage. "I am the commanding officer of the Combat Arms units, Triage. Because of this, I either must make a bid for the next rank, or accept any and all challengers to my position. Given the choices.. I am taking the more calculated route."

Triage really should be shooting steam out her audials right now. It takes her a good minute to be able to even answer this. "Calculated?! What in the <baaaadword> is calculated 'bout gettin' yourself slagged?!"

Onslaught says, "And what alternative, lifemate, would you presume to offer?" He asks, as he finally wisens up enough to start to push himself into a standing position, "Let's hear your idea."

Whiplash glances toward the exit. This is turning into a private arguement and she really shouldn't be here. And yet she can't quite bring herself to leave.

The one thing you should never toss at an angry femme....logic, which in this case has rather the same effect of throwing water onto a hot griddle. One can almost see it bounce and spit and hiss on the surface of Triage's face. "Don' y'try distractin' me Onslaught!" she snarls, her Imperial Gardens accent getting thicker by the moment. "Y'answer m'damn question first! 'Splain to me how this is a good idea!"

Whiplash's optics flicker faintly as she takes in the utter fury being displayed by Triage. Impressive.

Onslaught finally gets to his feet, and folds his arms impassively across his chest. Unwilling to back down, and unsure of his position, he instead presses forward with the logic. "Very well. I challenge Ghost, and wait for her to respond. And wait.. and wait.. and wait.. and in the meantime, I continue to run my operations cycle to cycle."

Triage is moving at the speed of mad, which is waaaaay beyond that of light so she goes right past Onslaught's words. "ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR MIND?! You gotta be if you think goin' ahead with that kinda aftheaded challenge is gonna do anything but get you beat down so bad it's gonna take months to fix..." All of a sudden her audials and her temper catch up to each other and she shuts down cold. ".....Ghost?" she squeaks. "...you're challenging Ghost?"

Onslaught says, "..she is the next step up from my current rank, Triage. I do not have another direction to go in."

Triage says, "..b..but...that's not what I heard...."

Onslaught tilts his head to the side, looking over at Whiplash. "She can verify."

Whiplash speaks up, "That's right. What did you hear, Triage?"

Triage's voice is soft. '...that Ons was gonna challenge Shockwave...."

Whiplash says, "Shockwave! Where'd that come from?"

Triage looks down at her feet. "*mutter*"

Onslaught says, "...what would give you the idea I would press for leadership at this time?"

[OOC] Onslaught says, "at this time.. how foreshadowing can you get? :)"

Triage shakes her head. "...I don' know..just...I don' know..."

Onslaught reaches out, and touches Triage's hand. "Well, now you know."

Whiplash ventures, "It was talked about in a tavern. You never know who's likely to overhear. And what they think they heard, and who they tell it to."

Triage takes Onslaught's hand then looks up. "...yeah..." she says softly. "...."

Onslaught looks down at Triage, trying to give her a little bolster of self-confidence.

Triage looks up at Onslaught. "..m'sorry baby," she says.

Whiplash smiles, and shakes her head. "Maybe I leave the two of you alone with the holographic simulator."

Onslaught says, "It is quite alright, Triage..."

Triage says, "You sure?"

Onslaught nods. "Positive."

Whiplash moves off silently, heading for the exit.

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